


learned to lie

by braigwen_s



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Autistic Havelock Vetinari, Backstory, Domestic, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, School, Talking About Things Like Adults Instead Of Just Arguing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braigwen_s/pseuds/braigwen_s
Summary: “You don’t even realise it hurts me when you lie to me, do you?” Vimes sighed, sitting down on the bed.  He grinned a little grin, lopsided.  “I bet you’ve been lying since you were born.”“No, Vimes,” said Vetinari quietly.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	learned to lie

“You don’t even realise it hurts me when you lie to me, do you?”

Vetinari opened his mouth, then closed it again. Slowly, he said “I do know, but I forget.”

Vimes sighed, sitting down on the bed. “Lying is just a way of life to you, innit?”

Vetinari nodded his head.

Vimes grinned a little grin, lopsided, cracking a joke to let Vetinari know this was something they’d argue about but not something Vimes wouldn’t forgive him for. “I bet you’ve been lying since you were born.”

“No, Vimes,” said Vetinari quietly. “I remember the exact moment when I began lying.”

Vimes raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I was eleven. It was my first semester at the Assassins’ Guild school.” Vimes rolled his eyes, but only a little bit. He kept listening. Vetinari’s fingers were twisting the bedsheet, manipulating it like a person. He was distressed; Vimes leaned back, a little bit, to show he wasn’t going anywhere. “A teacher said something incorrect, and I said this.”

“You said the teacher was incorrect?”

“I did.”

“They didn’t like that, did they?”

“No, they did not. He asked me if I thought I knew better than he did.”

There was something cold in Vimes’ stomach. “And you said yes. Didn’t you.”

Vetinari closed his eyes. “I did.”

Vetinari needed to talk about this, and Vimes wanted to know. Luckily for them both, Vimes asked questions like a pro. Maybe because he was. “What happened then?”

“The teacher sent another student down to the willow tree in the courtyard.”

“The willow tree?”

“To cut switches, Vimes.”

Vimes’ mouth shaped an ‘O’. “And then?” he asked, even though he could fill in the blank.

“And then I learned to lie,” said Vetinari. “Life was less painful this way, and people preferred it.”

“I don’t,” said Vimes. “I don’t like lies.” He gently pried Vetinari’s hand from the bedclothes, and lifted it up, brushing it against his mouth. “I’m not your bloody schoolteacher.”

“You are a blackboard monitor.” That was a joke.

It was a crappy joke, but Vimes laughed anyway.


End file.
